Between blotch and blok

... about believing the female inhabitants of the household holds true. Looby Loo announced this morning that she could hear a little bird.

"No!" we cried. "You can hear it in its nest in the loft."

Little was stationed outside the door to the airing cupboard.

M opened the door and found our number three visitor.

It looked very familiar. M hasn't found any other birdlets in or near the nest, so we decided that we've had one visiting starling three times and not triplets dropping in.

With very little time before the taxi arrived to take M to Heathrow, we didn't feed it and popped it back in its nest and tried, for the third time, to ensure there was no way it could drop down again. (We have problems if it does. The loft's not boarded, the rafters are dodgy, and the nest's in the part of the roof over the stairwell--a long way to fall. As a matter of course, M never goes into the loft if there's no other adult in the house. I don't go into the loft at all. So, if little starling pays us another visit, I have to deal with it, one way or another, on my own.) It's an adventurous little bugger: M said it was halfway down the side of the nest in the time it took him to move some boxes around to build a barricade between nest and covered over hole.

I approach the bathroom with trepidation, fearing the sounds of "feed me! feed me!" from the airing cupboard.